Chapter 35: Minutiae (1/2)

The rest of the convoy reached the Kazar outskirts mid-afternoon. It had been, Viv thought, a harrowing ten minutes of battle followed by a more harrowing three hours of extremely intensive triage. Neriad nurses had fortunately come with the support wagons to heal and stabilize the wounded. It had been an interesting moment for the medic.

Viv was no doctor. She also had no particular interest in the welfare of her fellow men and women. It just so happened that she was rather academically smart and, at the time, there had been a dearth of medics in her branch of the armed forces. She still felt a rush when managing to save lives, and today had been no exception. The existence of healers and magic added a new dimension to the art of keeping someone alive.

The medical profession back on earth had developed a slurry of instruments to keep death at bay: hemostatics, transfusions, antibiotics to name a few. There had even been talks of using biomaterials, but that was still under development. By comparison, Nyil only had a handful of tools, but by the local gods did they work like a charm. Just the basic life spell, when performed by hundreds of people, could knit wounds closed in a matter of hours.

Of course, some people might still die in the meantime.

And so Viv had labored to introduce the proper tourniquet, which beat ‘applying pressure on the wound’ by a lot when arteries had been nicked. The nurses appreciated the gesture and, in return, taught her on the spot how to use magic and observations to heal gut wounds. They also knew how to set bones with the best of them. Viv could not deny that they were impressively effective. She still thought that it was bullshit that they could not regrow stuff.

It turned out that limbs could be reattached if stuck back within a short time frame. Even that was a hit or miss with nerves not always reconnecting properly. Lost stuff could not be regrown, that was just how it was. The more advanced healing spells would quickly form a healthy stump and stop. Conversely, they could close, like, fifteen stab wounds at once.

Another thing that shocked Viv. She saw some guys asking for booze holding wounds that had her go “how the fuck are you still alive, not to mention conscious?” It all depended on their “endurance” stat, which was just a representation of how magic-soaked their bodies were when it came to resilience.

All in all, it had been a learning experience. She had apparently garnered a lot of respect and sympathy from the rank-and-file by working tirelessly, and giving out all of her health potions. They were worth their weight in silver, and the temple could not afford to replace them, but Viv would not let people die if she had the means to save them around her belt. Not for some hypothetical future occasion. It would have been an absolute dick move. She did not do those without a good reason.

And so she had become instantly popular. Viv wondered exactly how much was due to her prowess in battle, how much for her healing, and how much for reintroducing the Harrakan word for ‘twit’.

Both Farran and Varska had begged off her company for the night’s celebration as they had a lot to do on their own. They all asked her to be there and represent them, and so Viv was forced to pass by home quickly to get changed. She also used this opportunity to check her progress.

Willpower +1

Endurance +1

It was the first time that her mental stats had improved since leaving the desert. As expected, the progress would slow down now despite her training. She did not mind much. That was expected. Thinking that it had been a while, she brought up her status.

Current status:

Mana distribution:

Current attunement: 16.1%

Her attunement had grown again, but it was getting slower. Again, that was probably for the best since she would die when it reached 50%.

Physical

Mental

Power

13

Focus

30

Finesse

18

Acuity

30

Endurance

21

Willpower

31

Not bad. Her physical abilities were lagging behind. Perhaps she should cram some physical training, just so that she could be up to par with the average teen.

General skills

Polymath

Beginner 3

Athletics

Intermediate 2

Survival

Intermediate 1

Householding

Novice 8

Hand to hand combat

Advanced 6

Pain tolerance

Intermediate 8

Small blades

Beginner 7

Intimidation

Intermediate 2

That had not moved except for intimidation, and she thought she knew why. You needed to commit to something in order to make it progress. It was not enough to study to improve the polymath skill. You needed active, cross-discipline research. That was not urgent now, however. The next one was.

Class skills

Meditative Trance

Intermediate 8

Mana manipulation

Intermediate 1

Mana sense

Beginner 6

Danger sense

Beginner 3

Mana absorption

Beginner 4

Those lagged behind the average witch, as Solfis had told her. She simply had to keep doing what she was doing and they would improve. They had to be at least at intermediary before she could be considered a true, well-trained caster.

So much to do, so little time. At least progressing felt good. Beyond the world-generated grading system, just getting perceivably better at something made a difference. Back on earth, if you didn’t make progress at something you were getting worse at it. That was just the way things worked. Here, progress was set in stone. Viv was sure that there was some leeway and someone out of practice for ten years might need a moment but his number was there and it showed an ability that was not dependent on just muscle fiber or brain patterns, but on magical bullshit. And that was cool.

Of course, there were the monsters. Nothing was perfect.

As the last of the convoy members sprawled on the meadow, Viv noticed that tents and supports had been built nearby, on a square of grass left fallow. She looked at the nearest pavilion and saw the same elements that defined Kazar’s clothes. The fabric was undyed, yet someone had painstakingly woven little flowers on the surface to make it nice. She did not get to see what was inside before Corel strutted by with two men at his sides. He slowed when he spotted her and gave them brief orders, which they scurried off to execute. He made his way to her, only for a certain Kark bodyguard to interpose herself with a ‘wachu gonna do’ expression. She had heard about their previous encounter. This made Corel stop at a respectable distance with no signs of annoyance.

The leader of the guard had replaced his previously bloodstained tabard with a fresh white one sometimes between the end of the battle and now. He still wore his sword and plate armor. Now that she was no longer uncomfortable, tired, and impatient, she took the time to inspect him.

Corel was a man with an honest, somewhat boorish face except for a pair of keen brown eyes that measured Viv. She got the feeling that he was indulging her by being respectful, somehow, but didn’t find the strength to care. Respect was all about appearances. It did not matter to Viv that the man was doing it out of necessity. They were not buddies.

“Thank you for joining us in battle, Lady Bob, and you Marruk. Thanks to your efforts, we saved lives that would have been lost today. I appreciate it.”

A peace offering. Viv could work with that.

“Of course, captain, we are all together in the fight against the wild.”

Except for the squeaking one at her side, but that went without saying.

Captain Corel took the overture with a light smile and continued.

“The arrival of the convoy was meant to be the occasion for a joyous celebration. Unfortunately. The circumstances have changed, but Mayor Ganimatalo deemed it preferable to go ahead with the festivities. If you are willing, we have set up a high table and your presence would be appreciated.”

Viv and Marruk exchanged a glance. It sounded suspicious. Corel did not leave them the time to do much else, as he was already on the way out.

“The offer stays open if you have pressing business. Enjoy your night, you have earned it.”

Viv pondered her options.

“I will head back with Solfis. You should probably spend time with the other humans. It’s, errr, good for you, I think,” Marruk informed her with middling confidence. Viv knew that Marruk had it right. It was an important moment for Kazar and, like it or not, she was part of the community now. Might as well try to blend in a little bit.

“I will return when I am done. Do not walk to the house alone. Those filthy flea-ridden mercenaries are still around,” the Kark woman finished.

“Fair enough,” Viv admitted, “be careful.”

“I am with Solfis,” Marruk simply said.

//Indeed.

Yeah. She was not in any danger, Viv considered, as the powerful Kark left with their baggage and arms in tow. Viv still wore her armor, which someone had washed and dried for her and now smelled faintly of flowers.

As far as Viv understood, Marruk was a fearsome fighter, possibly on par with the temple guard’s stronger members, but not the officers like Corel, Lorn, and a handful of others like that Amazon woman. Those were in a class of their own. The gap between Marruk and the rank and file was immense, however, the contribution of this world’s magic was obvious. Viv was not exactly certain how it worked, only that it did.

She moved deeper into the tent village. The biggest one protected a dais on which a high table had been set, with plenty of lower tables before it. Men and women already crowded it. Several of the soldiers lifted their glasses when she passed by and Viv answered with a nod and wave. Only the mayor sat at the high table, deep in conversation with one of her aides. Viv joined her.

The mayor finished her instructions and addressed her as she climbed.

“Good evening, Witch Bob. Would you care to join me please?” she politely asked, a far cry from their previous meeting.

Once again, a vindictive woman would have taken the offer and metaphorically backhanded the cheeky politician, but Viv was pragmatic at heart. She saw an opportunity to repair her relationship with the local head honcho and seized it in the same moment.

“It would be my pleasure,” she replied with the smarmy smile of the consummate politician.

Viv sat next to the mayor, and realized that she was significantly taller than her. Corel was tall as well. Viv turned and grabbed a seat for Arthur to climb on. The small dragon immediately busied herself with pushing stuff around with her snout and smelling everything.

The mayor did not show any signs of concern as she poured Viv a cup. They raised their glasses together.

“To the fallen.”

“To the fallen.”

It was some sort of fruity wine with a spicy aftertaste and like most stuff here, it was fresh and surprisingly tasty.

“I wanted to apologize for the way we treated you earlier. We clearly operated on wrong assumptions. I hope you can forget about our mistake and start our relationship anew,” Ganimatalo offered.

Viv was not willing to let it go that easily. The woman had offered no compensation. She had to milk the situation a bit.

“Did you not receive reports on me?” she asked with a hint of reproach.